A Visitor In The Night
by FutanariIsFail
Summary: It is late into the night, and Ash, Cilan, and an unknown person are visited by a mysterious figure who wants to know a thing or two...


Dim lights were flickering in the face of one Ash Ketchum, his eyes squinting and twitching, his face an expression of pure indifference. On the opposite end of his sat Cilan, quietly making his way through a bowl of cereal with milk, munching every last bite dignantly and without second thought. A layman of the surrounding area sat with a newspaper covering his face, further contributing to the peaceful and slightly eery ambience that was this dining room table.

Silence further filled the air. No one had any other words to say. Ash cleared his throat, hoping to spark some kind of response, but alas, quiet were the other diners. The morning sun still had not risen, as at four-thirty in the morning, there is none left to do but to ponder one's being and what will come of the next period of daylight. The lights were mysteriously and suddenly turned on. Cilan stopped masticcating his flakes of cereal and held the ground up and soggy bits down with the left side of the mouth's teeth in a puffed cheek. He then continued chewing and then swallowed.

The lights were then turned backed off as a voice quietly called out, "Gentlemen... I see you are up early, or is it late? Whatever it is, it is nary the time for us to be here conversing." Ash then closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. He then further broke the silence with the words, "What do you want?"

The figure stepped towards the table in the dark of the night and chuckled. He continued, "I want nothing. I have no reason for being here. If you can give me as much as one reason to be here, I will enlighten the three of you greatly." He then fired a gun upwards, causing Ash to fall forward out of his chair and for Cilan to almost choke on his cereal, coughing up bits of soggy flakes with cold, creamy milk. Strangely, the man with the newspaper moved not even an inch.

The man of mystery took a deep breath and sighed with relief. He said, "So what have we here? A boy from Pallet Town seeking to be the very best, an eccentric yet lovable connoisseur, and a third figure whom we cannot identify in any way, shape, or form. And then there's me, just another pretty face bothering people in the wee hours of the night. Why are you here? Tell me, why?"

Ash inhaled and exhaled lightly as he propped himself back up into his chair. His elbows on the table, hands clasped and fingers crossed, thumbs twiddling, he thought, and he said, "I'm here because I have nowhere else to be, and I seek a higher ground in life. I've been here the whole night, but I haven't found that higher ground yet." The figure replied, "Nice. What about you, Cilan?" Cilan finished the spoonful of cereal he was eating and quickly replied, "Perhaps it is of interest to you as to why I locate myself in this very dwelling, but I will say, of what purpose is it to you?"

The figure fired his gun once more and snarled, "Nice one, smart guy, but I'm asking the questions here. Now why are you here?" Cilan banged his hands down on the table and said, "I'm here because I'm here, because I'm here. Some things are just the way they are, just because." The figure then said, "Interesting. Very interesting. Now what about you, Mr. Newspaper-reader?"

The man with the newspaper gave not one reply. He just sat there with his newspaper, observing the local reports and articles of whatnots. The figure then said, "I want to know, sir. Please give me an answer." There was no answer. "Don't be shy now, I just want an answer." Again, he did not give an answer. "You disappoint me." The figure then fired his gun and shot at the figure point blank, knocking him backwards out of his chair, bullet holes strewn through his newspaper. Just then, what little light there was in that room went out, and there was complete darkness. There was silent clamor, tension that, albeit inaudible, could not be mistaken. The lights flickered back on, and the dim light returned. The man's body was nowhere to be found, and an open window's curtain began to blow in the wind. Ash looked toward the open window and raised an eyebrow. Cilan's jaw then dropped, and cereal spilled out of his mouth as he looked in pure confusion.

"You fools." The figure could not help but give a straightforward and minimalist interjection to this situation. He then pointed the barrel of his gun to his temple and said, "May your lives be filled with emptiness and disappointment." He then pulled the trigger, which caused blood to splatter out of the side of his head as the bullet entered his body. He moaned in agony, giving a chuckle of madness as his life began to fade away. The lights then came back on to their full extent of brightness, revealing the figure to be none other than Drew, an old friend of Ash's from Hoenn, and rival to Ash's traveling companion May, a girl of that region.

Ash yelled out, "Drew!" and ran to his side. He held the dying Drew in his arms as he looked into his eyes in discontent. Ash said, "Drew... why?" Cilan blurted out, "You knew him?" Ash replied, "He's someone I haven't seen in quite a while. It's a shame he's become this."

Drew continued, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I've become. It seems in the years progressed since you and I last saw each other, things just haven't gone my way. Tell May... tell May... that... I... I..." Drew then groaned with his last breath and was freed of his mortal body, no longer left to suffer incongruously. Ash then lifted Drew's body as he stood, cradling the fallen coordinator, and looked upon this shell of a young man. "Good night, sweet prince." Ash then paused for a few seconds to take one last look upon Drew before he lay his body on the ground. He shook his head and walked away, not looking back once at the pathetic lost cause that had ended his life out of pure madness. He said to Cilan, "We're leaving." Without hesitation, the two of them headed to Iris's suite and woke her up to alert her of their departure, leaving the matter of a man's death out of their hands. It was now someone else's problem. 


End file.
